


A Shared Gift

by BuckinghamAlice



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: Anal Sex, Anniversary, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sharing a Bed, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-11-19 16:47:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11317563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BuckinghamAlice/pseuds/BuckinghamAlice
Summary: Napoleon and Illya enjoy a little morning anniversary sex.





	A Shared Gift

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Modest Celebrations and Thoughtful Gifts](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7303246) by [BuckinghamAlice](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BuckinghamAlice/pseuds/BuckinghamAlice). 



> A birthday present for my dearest friend... happy (late) birthday!
> 
> This is technically a sequel to my previous fic "Modest Celebrations and Thoughtful Gifts," however you can follow this one without having read the other.

_Bzzzzzzt._

“Turn that alarm off,” Illya complained. “Or else I will break alarm clock.”

Napoleon smiled to himself and reached over into the darkness to protect his clock. It was midnight exactly… they had just come off a mission that had kept them up for nearly three days, and when they'd gotten home that night they'd just fallen into bed.

“Why did you set alarm?” Illya asked sleepily. “Is still night time, Cowboy.”

Napoleon rolled over into Illya's space. “It's midnight now. A new day.”

Illya yawned and nodded. “Must we greet the day when it is this new?”

“Do you know _what_ new day it is?” Napoleon asked, kissing Illya's neck. He _had_ to remember. He had to know. He had proven himself to be the great romantic the year before with an unexpected proposal.

“The twenty-sixth,” Illya replied. “Is anniversary. We celebrate later.”

Napoleon frowned and climbed onto Illya's chest. Some might say he did this rather petulantly. Napoleon would disagree. “I want to celebrate _now_ , Peril. You should celebrate my brains out.”

Illya put his arms around Napoleon and grabbed his butt. This seemed like an encouraging sign that Napoleon would get his way… until Illya snored loudly. Napoleon pouted, hoping this would somehow wake his husband, but when it did not, he gave up and went back to sleep.

&&&

_Bzzzzzzt._

Napoleon opened his eyes at the sound of an alarm that he didn't set. The sun was up now, and when he glanced up at Illya, he couldn't help smiling at seeing those warm, beautiful eyes looking back at him.

“Morning, Cowboy,” Illya said quietly.

Napoleon yawned softly. “You're ready to be awake and be sociable now?”

“ _Da_ ,” Illya replied. “But I have been awake maybe twenty minutes already. I should be asking you that question.”

With a smirk, Napoleon said, “Yes. I'm ready.”

“Happy anniversary,” Illya all but cooed.

Napoleon kissed him deeply. He may have just woken up, but he was definitely ready to show Illya how much he loved him. Napoleon deepened the kiss even more, and moaned softly as he felt Illya hold him closer and tighter. It felt good and safe and right, and Napoleon had no idea how he had ever gotten along without it. He never wanted to again.

Illya rolled them over so he was now on top. They were both naked, as that was how they typically slept (especially in summer), so Napoleon could already feel every inch of Illya's body blanketing him and responding to him.

“I love you, Peril,” Napoleon said softly.

Illya kissed his neck and then buried his face in the crook above his shoulder. “My Cowboy,” he breathed, before kissing Napoleon's jaw. “Love my Cowboy.”

Napoleon threaded his fingers through Illya's soft, fair hair and spread his legs. “I was promised a celebration.”

“And you will get it,” Illya replied, his voice taking on a playful tone. “Don't you worry.” He reached between Napoleon's legs and started teasing his entrance with one finger. Napoleon moaned softly, and felt himself opening up already, his body and mind in agreement that they were ready.

Napoleon lifted his hips and Illya began to finger him. He started off slowly, but he continued to be gentle. It was like that sometimes… no one would believe it, but he could be incredibly tender and romantic. It drove Napoleon crazy in the best possible way. Illya always seemed to know what he needed.

It took almost no time for Napoleon to feel stretched open and ready enough, but instead of asking Illya to fuck him, he tried to convey this without words by kissing him deeply and passionately, and clenching around Illya's fingers.

Illya chuckled softly and kissed him. “My eager cowboy.” To Napoleon's annoyance, Illya removed the fingers he was currently enjoying, but when he reached over to the bedside table and picked up a jar of Vaseline, Napoleon licked his lips.

Illya slicked himself, and then briefly played with Napoleon a bit more, now that his fingers were slippery with lubricant. Napoleon moaned loudly at this sensation, eager to feel more.

“Don't tease,” he breathed. “I want my anniversary present.”

Illya withdrew his fingers once more, and slid into him carefully. “This isn't your present.”

Napoleon kissed him and held tight to him. “You're right. It's yours.”

Illya smiled as he began to thrust. Napoleon may have been bluffing… it sure _felt_ like a great present. He wrapped his arms around Illya's body, and then he wrapped his legs around him too. It kind of felt like a hug; he just wanted Illya as close to him as possible. _Forever_ , he thought, thinking back to the improvised vows they had taken one year before.

Illya set up a good pace. Not too fast but not slow. He was still being gentle, but hard enough to make Napoleon moan and breathe heavily. They gazed into each other's eyes and kissed from time to time as they fucked. It was incredibly romantic, but pretty sexy too.

“You feel so good,” Illya moaned. “So good, so tight.”

Napoleon clenched on him. “How's that for tight?” In response to that, Illya thrust a little harder, and Napoleon moaned louder.

“You like that?” Illya asked. And he started going a bit faster.

Napoleon ran his fingers through Illya's hair and then gave it a little pull, as he knew Illya liked. Illya kissed him and gently nibbled his bottom lip. This got Napoleon to moan into his husband's mouth.

Illya held onto Napoleon's hips, bringing their bodies even closer somehow. This changed the angle slightly and made it easier for Illya to hit his prostate.

Napoleon was feeling close already. He remembered a time when their relationship was still new and how they would both reach this point and start trying to drag things out… lengthen each encounter because they could never be sure when or if they'd have another. And sure, in their line of work, their lives would always come with some uncertainties… but this, their relationship and their sex life, was not one of them. Things were secure and comfortable, but much too pleasant and fulfilling to ever be called boring.

Illya began to stroke Napoleon, and in moments he went over the edge, grunting and covering Illya's hand in cum. Illya followed just a moment later, and with his last spurt, he said “ _there_ it is.”

When Napoleon was fully back in his body, and he thought Illya might be too, he laughed. “Don't say things like that when you cum. It sounds ridiculous.”

“I was trying to be clever,” Illya protested.

Napoleon raised an eyebrow. “How was that clever, Peril? You had snores last night that were a bit cleverer than that.”

“I do not snore,” Illya replied indignantly. “And it was clever because I was giving you your present. Remember what I said?”

Napoleon shook his head. “That's ridiculous. You do too snore. And I want a _real_ gift.”

Illya yawned. “I cannot believe I married you. But I know you, Cowboy… of course there is real present. You can have it after breakfast.”

Napoleon snuggled up to his husband and smiled to himself. Yes, he felt very content. No… he was happy. “Set the alarm again… if you're expecting me to cook, I need a nap first.”

 


End file.
